Where is your Ginestlay?

Where is your Ginestlay?

In the movie, Lion, and the book, A Long Way Home, five year old, Saroo, fell asleep on a train and woke to find himself hundreds of miles from the only life he had known – far away from the love of his family and from the security of his small impoverished village. Saroo desperately pleaded with strangers to help him find his way back, but at his young age, he didn’t properly know the name of his province, only what he phonetically remembered as “Ginestlay”, the place he knew as home and a place where, on a map, did not exist.

Today, while standing at my window as I often do while watching wildlife come and go, I saw a young squirrel slowly make its way down from a tree and move across the grass and sidewalk, slowly, moving toward the bird-bath. It was apparent that the squirrel wasn’t watching where it was going but had its eye on its surroundings for any threat. When it came to the bath it effortlessly jumped up to the rim and took a fresh drink of water, surefooted, as if it had done it a hundred times before. A moment later the squirrel jumped down and moved slowly back across the sidewalk, across the grass, then back up the tree.

Now, I know that a squirrel and a little Indian boy don’t have much in common, but while studying this squirrel it occurred to me that as young as it was, it had come to know this small part of its world as its home – its “Ginestlay”. It was familiar and secure with its environment.

To me, Ginestlay represents home. No matter the size of it, no matter the cleanliness of it, how formidable or not, it is the place where we are most familiar and comfortable Рthe place where we are secure. My Ginestlay is a place where love is, a place where I call Рhome.

Where is your Ginestlay?